elegant drapery of art, which, for a time, dazzled the eyes of the builder, with the result, in the end, of only begetting his hate or piquing his fancy, then to fall, and find itself the subject of history or of song. "The majority of the scintillating governmental ideas of the past six hundred years are gone. They fell victims, in all their momentous beauty and power, to the great upheavals of ever-changing popular sentiment and will. But amid all these changes, one institution of the now far-off twelfth century yet remains, and is to-day, as then, the great bulwark of liberty, and the embodiment of personal security; affording to the weak protection; staying the hand and heart bent on the ruin of peace and safety; guaranteeing to every citizen his or her legal and constitutional rights, and setting up a Gibraltar on every hearthstone; reaching out to every hamlet the strong arm of protection and liberty. Need I say I refer to the grand jury? I think it would be safe to say that no single institution in the history of the world has worked out so much good for society as this one; maintaining through all conflicts and subversions its integrity, and securing for itself the commendation of the people, gathering strength and confidence as it accumulated years, garnishing its utility at every step, until, to-day it stands firm and steadfast, respected, admired, honored, wherever Christianity has secured recognition and touched the human heart with the magic of its divine errand." GREAT BRITAIN. BETWIXT AND BETWEEN WERE BETTER FOR BOTH.— -The following is old, but good; the truth of the latter scene is obvious to any one who has read the recent trial of Troppmann. THE LAW. Prisoner, don't plead guilty. How do you know whether a case can be made out against you? PRISONER. Thank you, my lord, but as I did it — THE LAW. Be silent, my good man. How do you know you did it — did what your offence is said to be? THE LAW. Be very careful, sir. Remember your oath. How do you know THE LAW. Never mind what you think. Did you see him take the thing? THE LAW. Who asked whether you were walking, or riding, or flying, or crawl ing on your stomach? Answer the question. Did you see him? THE LAW. You can swear that it was he, and no one else? WITNESS. Yes, my lord. THE LAW. Do you know that he has a brother very like him? WITNESS. It wasn't his brother, my lord. THE LAW. Answer the question, or you'll get into trouble. Do you know the fact that his brother is very like him? WITNESS. He is not so very like, my lord. THE LAW. How dare you say that? It is only your opinion. Will you swear that there was light enough to enable you to be certain that this was the man? WITNESS. I know the fellow well enough, my lord. THE LAW. How dare you call him names? You dislike him, evidently, and the jury will be cautious in accepting your evidence. Be careful, sir! PRISONER. He tells the truth, my lord. I did THE LAW. Hold your tongue, my poor man. But it is true that I took THE LAW. Keep him silent, jailer. Go down, you sir, and feel ashamed of having shown animosity in that sacred box. Gentlemen of the Jury,- Such charges are easily made, but disproved with difficulty. The witness had evidently an animus. The prisoner has borne a good character, at least nothing has been proved against him, and his readiness to admit every thing is creditable to him. Still, it is for you to say, Guilty, or Not guilty. JURY. Guilty, my lord! THE LAW. As the jury has found you guilty of stealing these sovereigns, prisoner, I have only to pass sentence, which I shall make very light. You will be imprisoned, without hard labor, for a month. PRISONER. I can do that on my head, my lord. [Flings his nailed shoe at the foreman, and exit shouting.] THE LAW. Prisoner, I am afraid you are an awful scoundrel. Why don't you confess, and make reparation to society? PRISONER. Because I am innocent. THE LAW. You say that with a certain impudence which proves you hardened in crime. How came you to rob your master? PRISONER. I never did. THE LAW. This reiteration of a plea which is clearly false is disrespectful to the court, and will aggravate your punishment. Are you fond of the theatre ? THE LAW. That denotes a love of pleasure which is frequently found united with dishonesty. Do you smoke? PRISONER. A good deal. THE LAW. Doubtless, to stupefy the reproaches of a menacing conscience. Do you go to mass? PRISONER. At regular times. THE LAW. That shows you to be a hypocrite. Now, witness, is he not guilty? THE LAW. How dare you say that? Did you commit the crime yourself? THE LAW. Don't answer in that petulant way. What is your character? Are you fond of the theatre? WITNESS. No, THE LAW. Just so. A dark and gloomy nature cannot enjoy innocent recreation. Do you smoke? WITNESS. Very little. THE LAW. You fear to be traced by the smell of your clothes. You know that tobacco increases our revenue, and you wilfully abstain in order to injure your country. Do you go to mass? WITNESS. Seldom. THE LAW. You feel your evil character unfits you for the solemnities of the church. Go down. The next. Now, what have you to say, woman? WITNESS. The accused is an excellent husband- THE LAW. Are you his wife? WITNESS. No, my lord, but his wife's friend, and I know THE LAW. Then the less you have to say in the future to the wife of an accused person the better. Perhaps you are in love with him. WITNESS. My lord, I have a husband whom I love, and children whom I adore, and because any of them might be charged falsely, as the prisoner is, I came to say what I can for justice. THE LAW. That theatrical sentiment you have learned from some play, and your reciting it here is most indecent. Go down. Gentlemen of the Jury,- It is quite clear that this scoundrel is guilty. His insolent denials, the class of witnesses -atheists, profligates, frequenters of theatres, gloomy conspirators, and the like-make his guilt evident: besides which, a jailer heard him say Mon Dieu in sleep, which showed temporary remorse. Finally, I happen to know that he is guilty, for I knew his father in his youth, and he was a vile assassin. Gentlemen, you have only to say, Guilty. THE JURY. Not guilty. THE LAW. You are a contumacious set of rebellious and illogical pigs, and I shall see whether the Procureur of his Majesty cannot deal with you as conspirators. Meanwhile, abandon the box you have disgraced. [Exeunt the jurymen, confirmed in Imperialism. INDEX TO VOLUME IV. [THE NUMBERS FOLLOWING THE LETTER D. UNDER EACH HEAD REFer to the digest.] U. S. Courts' Practice (Vol. 1), Alternative Contract, D. 489. 358. Acceptance, D. 323, 724. Accession, D. 119. Accommodation Guaranty, D. 488. Account, D. 91, 323, 459. Action, 398, 771, D. 91, 119, 286, 303, 323, Act of God, D. 119, 323, 488. Admiralty, 615, 768, 769, D. 91, 286, 303, Admission, D. 119, 323. Adverse Possession, 194. Adverse User, D. 725. Affidavit, D. 91, 120, 459, 488. Agent. See Principal and Agent. Agreed Facts, D. 303. See Case Stated. What they are, should be settled, 31. Alternative Judgment, D. 323. Alternative Liability, D. 489. Amendment, D. 91, 303. American Claimants of English Estates, 403. American Journal of Insanity (Vol. 26, No. 3), 578. Ancient Light, D. 91, 700. Andrews's Reminiscences of a Georgia Andrews's Trial, 164. Appropriation of Payments, D. 460, 489. Arbitration, D. 92, 304, 460. Arrest, D. 324, 725. Assault, D. 92, 120, 324, 725. Assignment, D. 120, 286, 304, 324, 460, Assumpsit, D. 92, 120, 286, 460, 489, 709, Concession of belligerent rights not a Attachment, D. 120, 304, 324, 489. grievance, 35-37. Attempt to commit offences, D. 725. |